Emma had rather avoided Jack after the graduation ceremony. Between what radio said he'd been up to on Thursday, and how she'd managed to reduce his sister to tears during graduation, she had decided to take herself elsewhere. Elsewhere being somewhere off-island, where she could have a drink and sulk.

Although when she didn't have a phone call or a sulking boy on her doorstep by mid-morning, wanting to know where she'd been, Emma decided that she clearly needed to go kick him.

No one ever said that her brain-processes were logical. She was a teenage female telepath.

"Jack?" she called, rapping on his door. "Wake up and stop being lazy. You ought to get dressed and take me out to brunch. I want french toast."